


Fight For Your Love! Skating Will Change the World

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:52:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Victor gets political. Yurio gets angry(er). Yuuri gets tired of being a virgin.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Fucking bullshit train hurry the fuck up already express my ASS what is the point of high speed rail if you spend twenty fucking minutes pulling into the station dadundaa dunnndunndadun music swells do a triple salchow into a spiral FUCK come on come on COME ON _

Yuri Plisetsky was having a stressful day. He had only just made it onto the Sapsam express train from St. Petersburg to Moscow, and this was fairly apparent by his haphazard outfit and uncombed hair. Lucky for him, his wardrobe consisted mostly of black and leopard print, so nothing he had snatched out of the pile on his bedroom floor clashed horribly, but he had a face mask on and had pulled his hoodie up just in case someone got cute and tried to take a stealth shot for the internet. He was too keyed up to sleep or buy anything to eat off the trolly, and had spent the entire four hour trip grimacing out the window at the passing countryside.

Currently, he was standing guard at the train’s door, having given up his seat early to make sure he was the first to get off the train when it pulled into Leningradsky station. Too early, in fact, as the train had slowed to a crawl as it made it’s arrival and he was going mad with impatience. His frustration over his confinement was only heightened by the earworm that had been burrowing into his skull for the better part of the trip— _Allegro Appassionato_ had crept back into his brain, which meant a constant play through of Lilia’s choreography streaming in the background of his mind.

He made a conscious decision at that moment: he would only skate to heavy metal in the future. That would spare himself a lifetime of prancing around to this sissy classical bullshit that wouldn’t give him any peace. If he was going to go mad, he was going to lose his mind to fuckin’ ROCK AND ROLL. 

Part of Lilia’s training after his dismal performance at last season’s Rostelecom Cup was to focus on not letting his outward appearance be swayed by his inner emotions. She had blamed his poor short program score on his inability to convey _agape_ properly while frustrated, and he had begrudgingly realized it was true—he was an emotive and intense young man, but that was detrimental to his performance score for a program conveying innocence. He had spent a lot of time after that embarrassing loss focusing on his stance, his posture, and how he presented himself at all times, despite how keyed up or angry he was. Right now, anyone looking his way would see a short, blonde young…err, person of questionable gender, standing casually and waiting to leave the train. 

Unfortunately he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of keeping his facial expressions neutral, so when the door finally opened, the train attendant waiting on the platform was met with a hard green-eyed glare that made her take a few steps to the side with an awkward cough. The Ice Tiger of Russia busted out of the train and onto the platform, booking it towards the main terminal and weaving his way around other commuters, only half-attempting not to take people out with the backpack on his shoulder as he passed them. 

A small child began having a meltdown five meters ahead of him and stopped dead in the doorway to screech his woes at his tired mother. Yuri had fully made up his mind to run the little beast over when his phone started chiming, throwing him off the war path. Victor’s face popped up on the screen along with a long string of emojis that generally reflected Yuri’s thoughts on the older skater. Growling, he pulled down the face mask to his chin and swiped the screen to accept the call. 

“Yuri! Did you make it to Moscow safely?” Lesser people might have swooned over the note of concern in Victor’s voice, wrapping it around themselves like a safety blanket and snuggling down into soft oblivion to escape all their troubles. Mostly it just made Yuri fucking nauseous. “I’m so sorry, I just heard from Yakov—“

“Only just?? I got on the train hours ago. What, you’ve been sleeping so late? Being lazy won’t beat me this season, Victor.” 

“No, no, I was ignoring his messages, actually. It’s a special day today, I’m getting ready for Yuuri, I pick him up from the airport tonight!”

As Yuri navigated through the main station to the metro, something in the pit of his stomach tightened at the mention of his similarly-named arch-rival. Of course he would show up on a day like today, what perfect fucking timing he had. The youngest of the trio had considered for a few moments that he might ask Victor to come to Moscow as well—not for emotional support or anything but because he was well liked by Grandpa!— but of course, the Japanese piggy moving to St. Petersburg was vastly more important than Yuri’s own troubles. 

His temper got the better of him.

“Oh, great, well thanks for all your concern, I really appreciate the call, Victor. Have fun with your little date tonight, okay, I’ll just be here watching my family die.” He had meant it more sarcastically than in anger, but something got lost in translation between his heart and his lips. He felt a pang of regret, not just after the words had left his mouth, but in the moments of pained silence that rang in his ears from the other end of the line. It was the first time he’d put his fear into words.

“Yuri…please tell Nikolai that I’m thinking of him, alright?” 

“Da,” Yuri replied, coaxing his voice to be a little softer to smooth things over. “I’ll tell him for you. I’m going underground now.”

“We will come and pick you up at the station when you come back to St Peters—“ He descended the steps to the subway platform, and without much guilt he hung up on the helpful voice that had suddenly become cheerful again. _The last thing I want to do when I get back is to go for a swim in the awkward sexual tension between those two idiots._

Standing on the subway platform under the golden yellow light of the large chandeliers, he pulled his face mask back up and silently waited for the train, scrolling through his texts. Any time he received a text from his mother, he could usually count on being dragged into some kind of bullshit: _“Yurachka, please send money”; “Yurachka, my account is so low”; “Yurachka, do you ever think of your poor mother??”_

This morning had been different.

_ “Yurachka, got a call from a hospital, Grandpa had a heart attack. In Thailand now, can you please go look after him? See you soon xoxo Mama” _

Closing out the screen, he shoved the mobile back into his pocket, trying not to grind his teeth as a boxy subway train pulled up. That callous bitch was on vacation again with some muscled douchebag while his poor grandfather had probably collapsed on the floor at home and called 112 by himself. He got onto a subway car and dropped into an open seat, cutting off another commuter before they could snag it. Looking at his own boots, he ignored the glare and muttered curse and fought a battle against the annoying tears that had crept into his eyes. 

He’d do anything to make sure his grandpa was alright. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ …oh wow, I didn’t study enough. _

Yuuri Katsuki was having a relatively less stressful day, but it was full of tedious traveling. He stepped off the escalator at Pulkovo Airport, already intimidated by the amount of cyrillic surrounding him on all the signs and advertising, and was at least grateful for the five years he’d spent in Detroit— airports always had plenty of English, no matter what country you visited. Following the signage to his baggage claim, he decided that he was definitely going to have to review the _Let’s Practice Russian!_ app he’d downloaded onto his phone a little more extensively. 

“YUUURI~~!”

Looking towards the sound of the familiar voice, he was suddenly embraced by strong arms. A soft cashmere scarf pushed against his jaw and his nose filled with the scent of the fragrance they had picked out on their last shopping trip together. Yuuri had no relatively no experience when it came to buying perfumes and colognes, but a pretty bottle by _Yves Saint Laurent_ had caught his eyes, and the intoxicating scent of warm vanilla and orange blossoms mingled with coffee had filled his body with warmth down to his toes. 

Victor had said he looked like he was in heaven smelling it and bought two bottles of it on the spot. Apparently, he still favored it.

Looking up into the eyes colored like the sea of his hometown, he felt at home even thousands of miles away from Hasetsu. He smiled. 

“It’s only been a few weeks, but I feel like it’s been centuries!” Victor grinned as he pulled back a bit, holding Yuuri’s shoulders with his hands. Yuuri was happy for the support; it could have been the hours of travel he’d just been subjected to without much to eat, but he was feeling dizzy with giddy excitement to be near Victor again. 

“I know. I really missed you, Victor.” The grin on his favorite person’s face was contagious and only made his own sleepy smile grow bigger. Directly after the Grand Prix Final, Victor had invited him to move to St. Petersburg to continue training under him. He’d said yes without hesitation. For a brief moment, he’d worried about what his family would think. He’d only just gotten home from five years abroad, after all, and to tell his parents he was moving across the world to live with a man that he’d been broadcasting his deep feelings for on international television… They had taken it much better than he had predicted, his mother even kissing his forehead and telling him not to forget to visit. With Victor, of course! 

_He brings in the customers, with his pretty foreign looks!_ she had joked with a wink. 

His father had driven him the hour to Fukuoka Airport at five in the morning without a single complaint, hugged him at the drop off, and told Yuuri with a grin to visit often and bring his mother home a gold medal to hang in the entryway of _Yu~topia_. A connection at Incheon, then Irkutsk, then Domodedovo, and finally 35 hours later he was in the old city that was going to be his new home. The home he’d make together with Victor. 

“Come, let me help with your luggage,” Victor smiled, heading off to the rotating carousel of various sized bags. There was a soft bark and Yuuri looked down to see another familiar face, though it was much shaggier than her master’s. 

“Makkachin!” Hearing her name, the cafe-au-lait colored poodle stood up straighter and gave Yuuri a happy-to-see-you smile, wagging her tail briskly. Getting down on his knees, he gave her a big hug and kissed the top of her fluffy head, scratching under her ears and along her jaw like she liked. 

“Yuuri, is this all you brought?” Victor reappeared, pulling Yuuri's travel-worn suitcase behind him.

“Yeah,” he finished fluffing Makka’s curls and stood, scratching at his collar, feeling sheepish. “I really don’t have that much stuff, Victor.”

"Well once we get you unpacked, we'll see if there's anything I can buy you, hm? Come on, my car is this way."

Makkachin trotted after her master and Yuuri followed, his carryon bag slung over his shoulder. He realized that he'd never considered Victor driving before and fell into imagining what kind of car his stylish coach might have. The thought of the confident, gorgeous man behind the wheel of a sleek luxury sedan, easily gliding through the city streets like a prowling animal…or in a sexy roadster, taking curved roads easily with his long, graceful fingers wrapped around the stick shift...

Yuuri got a little shiver down to the base of his spine and the tips of his ears went pink. Would it be crimson? Or maybe a french blue to emphasize his eyes…

Or something more surprising?

"Here, this one, Yuu~ri~" Victor smiled, saying his name in that singsong way he did when he was cheerful. Yuuri stopped and looked around, confused. Makkachin trotted ahead and sat in front of a tan, boxy Lada two-door hatchback that looked like it had been made at the beginning of the century.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Victor pulled out his keys and opened the trunk, lifting Yuuri's suitcase into it and turning to take his backpack from him. "Something wrong?"

"No, no!" He handed it over to the Russian, simply impressed at how little the car matched his image of the man. _Certainly surprising..._ "I guess I just expected you to drive like...a Mercedes or a Tesla or something."

"No," he laughed, closing the trunk and then opening the passenger-side door so Makka could climb into the backseat. He leaned in, working to strap her in gently with a seatbelt that had been fitted with a special dog harness. "I drive so little, the car doesn't matter as long as it gets me there and back. I'd rather spend money on food, and clothes. And Makkachin.” 

He stood back up and moved aside, holding the door open and smiling.

"And you, Yuuri."

Yuuri smiled back softly and moved to slide into the offered seat, getting settled.

"Thanks."

Closing the door, Victor drummed his fingertips against the window with a smile, the golden ring that Yuuri had slipped onto his right hand in _Sagrada Familia_ shining in the lamp light. Victor moved around the car to the driver's side, whistling cheerfully, his breath visible in the evening chill. Looking down, Yuuri fidgeted with the matching ring on his own finger, feeling warm inside at the sight of its twin so close again. He hoped that his new life with Victor would be full of warm moments like this.

"Alright, are you hungry?" Yuuri looked up as Victor slid into the driver's seat and closed the door. "It's late, but I know a few spots we could go."

"Sure! Should we invite Yurio?" In the back of his mind, a selfish part of him hoped Victor would say no--not that he didn't appreciate the furious kitten in short doses, but the idea of sharing a meal alone with Victor late in the evening was too appealing to pass up.

"Ah, he's in Moscow right now actually," Victor turned the key in the ignition, the engine grumbling to a start, and rubbed his hands together as the old car warmed up.

"Visiting his family? For how long?" His heart leapt. Romantic evening(s?) alone secured!

"I'm not sure," Victor replied, all the usual cheerfulness gone from his angular features. "His grandfather had a heart attack, so he took the express train earlier today.”

Yuuri's heart dropped in his chest, a wave of guilt rolling through him for his earlier thoughts.

"That's...t-that's horrible. I'm so sorry to hear that.”

"Yeah, it was a big surprise when Yakov told me. I would have gone with him for support, but it happened the same day you flew in, so." Putting the car in gear, Victor looked back over his shoulder, slowly backing out of the space. "He is strong, and can take care of himself. But I told him we'd pick him up when he gets home. We should treat him to something nice to cheer him up, yes?"

"Y-yeah! Absolutely. Wow, poor Yurio." Yuuri resolved to buy the boy anything he liked when he returned. Because material possessions would make up for the heartache of seeing your important family in the hospital, right? He rolled his eyes and looked out the window, but his self-admonishment was cut short as Victor gunned out of the parking garage, hanging a sharp left onto the wide road leading into the city, weaving in and out of traffic.

Makkachin whimpered softly from the back.


End file.
